


The Nanny

by GabbyLyons



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-03-16 08:20:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GabbyLyons/pseuds/GabbyLyons
Summary: When dr. John Smith visits the house of a friend to treat his sick children, it's the children's nanny, not the disease, that matters the most to him.





	1. The Consultation

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is also on wattpad, but it's on Portuguese and I am translating my own work. 
> 
> English is not my first language, so if there's any mistakes, let me know and I'll fix it.

The dr. John Smith was driving with hurry through the busy roads of London, looking every moment at the GPS on the dashboard of his car, trying to found the house of George Maitland, who had called him to examine his sick children. 

It took him two hours driving (luckily he had left home early) and most of that time on the phone with Nardole so he could keep the clinic working during his absence.

George Maitland worked on the university where dr. Smith taught for medicine students, and this particular consultation had been a favor to him. John still tried to convince George that he could take the children to his clinic, but George had insisted they were not in a position to leave home, specially in that weather. 

The Maitland's home wasn't very big, but it sure was very beautiful: it was well maintaned and the walls had bright colors. Its interior passed a sensation of tranquility and comfort, and something in that house's decoration made John that it was the touch of Abigail Maitland, George's late wife. According to him, she died after a very complicated birth, and after her death George got alone with his two older children and a newborn baby. It was hard, and John understood him better than anyone: he had lost his wife River a short time ago and been left alone to raise his daughter Jenny. 

Dr. Smith pressed the bell, hoping to be attended by mr. Maitland, but instead who opened the door was a very beautiful young woman with brown hair and eyes e with a face strangely familiar to John. When she saw him, she said friendly:

"Hi! You must be the Doctor, aren't you?"

"Yes. - answered John - I came to examine the children. Is George here?" 

"He's on the children's room. Come in, I'll show where it is"

John barely put his foot on the first rung of the ladder that was in front of the door when curiosity came to his mind and made he turn back and ask the lady behind him:

"And you are..?"

"Clara Oswald. I'm a friend of the family."

"Haven't we met before?"

"No." She replied, with a smart smile. "I'm helping mr. Maitland with his children."

"So you are the nanny?"

"For as long as he need."

John turned his back to Clara and convinced himself that it was just an impression, although something in his mind was telling him that she reminded him of someone. 

Then the woman led him to said room, where George was sitting in a bed, doing his best to calm his two unquiet pre teen children and a baby who couldn't stop crying. 

At first he didn't seem to notice the presence of Clara and John. He focused only on the children, which John deduced were feverish, as there were cloths on their heads. 

They were beautiful children. They were visibly well cared for, although they were pale and very weak. Their father, on other hand, was looking very tired, as if he hadn't slept for days, and it was obvious that he had a lot of a affection for his children. 

John, involved by this moment of paternal care, began to remember with tenderness of his daughter Jenny, who was only one year old, 7 months when her mother died. But his thoughts were abruptly interrupted by Clara's voice calling for George. When he heard her, mr. Maitland looked up suddenly and turned his attention from his children to look to both of them. 

"Doctor! You came! You really did!" As George spoke, John analyzed his expressions, in his eyes there was weariness and worry, hiding an immense loneliness. "Please, look after them! I don't know what else to do! I've spent all the aspirin and syrup I had on the house but it does not end the pain or the cough!"

John sighed and closed his eyes for a brief moment as he approached to Angie, the oldest child. 

"I hate to say it, George, but they need to go to the hospital to make some exams!"

"But I do not want to risk taking them out of the house during this blizzard!"

John wanted to suggest that they could be taken on his car or in an ambulance, but kept quiet after looking again in his coworker's eyes. He was afraid of also losing his children. John couldn't judge him. The children may needed his medical care, but George needed his friendship. 

Realizing the situation, Clara decided to intervene."

"Georgie, do you want some tea?"

"Yes, please."

"Come, John will take care of the children."

George agreed shaking his head and looking at his friend with a deep appreciation, what did not go unnoticed by John, who silently pitied him. He knew better than anyone the loneliness and sadness he was feeling. He felt that every day. Everywhere he went to, everywhere he looked at, there was a piece of River there, but River wasn't there. 

As soon as he was left alone with the three children, he took out his stethoscope and blood collection material from inside his briefcase to begin examining the little Maitlands. 

He made everything he could: examined, took samples, which then he put in his briefcase along with his stethoscope. But it was obvious to him, even before analyzing the sample, in his experience as a doctor and seeing the difficulty the children had to breathe, what the results would indicate: pneumonia. And as soon as it was confirmed George should take them to the hospital, with or without fear. 

Leaving them alone, John went to the kitchen to tell mr. Maitland his opinion about the children. 

George was sitting at the table with Clara in front of him, talking gladly about Artie's next birthday. When he saw him, George got up with a smile on his face and a glimmer of hope in his eyes. 

"So, dr. Smith? What's wrong?"

"First I need the results, George, but all the signs points to a pneumonia. They've been this way for days now, they need to go to the hospital, even in an ambulance. This is dangerous, especially for the baby."

The smile on George's face disappeared, just like the glimmer of hope in his eyes, giving way to a worried expression, in his face and in Clara's, which by then had also risen from her chair. 

"Don't you worry." John to calm them down. "I'll prescribe some medication in the meantime and I'll call the clinic and ask Nardole to prepare the pediatrics."

Although Clara e George were still worried, they were also relieved. Clara picked up a tray of tea and cookies and left, leaving George and John alone on the kitchen, while John gave George the prescriptions and explained how to administer the children's medication. 

When they finished, John shook George's hand to say goodbye and came back to the room to say goodbye to his three patients as well. When they got there, they saw Clara trying to tranquilize the baby in her arms as Artie and Angie were eating the cookies that the nanny had brought. As soon as the baby slept, Clara put him on the crib e accompanied John to the door, but he still haven't took out of his mind the idea that he knew her from somewhere. When she closed the door, John understood that definitely, Clara was the pillar of that house.


	2. At The Restaurant

Irving Braxiatel looked again at the watch on his wrist. His younger brother, John, had agreed to meet him at his favorite restaurant after a private consultation, and was ridiculously late. Despite being deeply annoyed, this kind of behavior of his brother didn't surprise him anymore. John always had a certain disregard for rules and commitment. This was clear at the time John studied and every day his family received notices about his bad behavior, and became even clearer on the day he stole a car and ran away from home, abdicating the surname and privileges of his family. It was a disgrace, in the eyes of all his family, how John had reneged on his position and the amount of rules he broke every day. Irving, however, couldn't help feeling proud of his brother, for all the lifes he saved, and for his courage. He did not blame him, after all, he himself had not used the Lungbarrow surname for many years, to the chagrim of their parents and cousins.

He knew his brother very well. Therefore, when he saw him enter the restaurant and approach his table, more anxious than normal, he knew something was wrong.

"John, what happened?" he said as his young brother sat down.

"My head is too full, Brax." answered him, fixing the bow tie.

"Are Mr. Maitland's children very sick?"

"Pneumonia, I am sure. But I can not do much until I get the results of the exams."

"Oh no.." Braxiatel lamented. "But.." Brax looked suspiciously at his brother. "Is there anything else that upsets your mind?"

"I can't keep secrets from you, can I?"

"You know you can't." Braxiatel smiled, but it wasn't a friendly smile. Although he was very charismatic when he wanted to, he could also be very manipulative when he wanted to.

"George is unwell. Very overloaded, very worried. The only help he has is a girl who works at his house, and I have a very strange feeling that I know her."

"And where you could have known her?" Braxiatel's smile did not disappear. His gaze was the same as a snake.

"I don't know how to explain. She denied that she knows me but I can not stop thinking that I've seen her somewhere."

Brax olhou fundo nos olhos de John.

"Again, brother mine? Wasn't Miss Tyler enough for you, or your late wife? Or, of course.. Harold Saxon? You go from one adventure to another."

John swallowed. Those names still haunted him.

"I don't want to talk about it."

"About what? Your little girlfriend who had to move with her parents? Your ex wife? Or about the best friend you've had an affair with and nearly killed you?"

"None of them, Brax!" John shouted, and that was how Brax knew the victory was his. He always knew exactly which weak spots to touch.

John sighed. His heart was racing.

"Very well." Continuou Irving. "What's her name?"

"Clara. Clara Oswald."

Irving thought for a moment if that name reminded him of something. It didn't.

"And where does George know her from?"

"She told me she was a family friend."

Irving took a deep breath, giving up.

"Hm. You should stop thinking about it, brother. You already have enough concerns."

"You're right, with the clinic and the girls, I have enough to occupy my mind. But it was strange, you know?"

"I was not referring to that. I was referring to our family."

"Oh no!" John shouted, causing some people to look at him. "My family ends in you, Brax. The rest are related to whom I've cut off relationships for a long time."

"You ran away, actually."

"My escape has nothing to do with our relatives. I've been free for a long time. And you should do the same."

Braxiatel raised an eyebrow.

"You think I'm not free?"

"Think. Neither you, nor Narvin. You two do all kinds of dirty work for people who would do nothing for you."

"Don't even think for a moment that I dirty my hands or that I take my chances for free, brother."

"I don't. But it's not worth it."

"I disagree. We both cut ties differently, John."

"I know they are powerful. But they are also some arrogant cowards who prefer to see the world crashing down than spend energy helping. I could never be like this."

"You've never been like this, John."

The waiter brought the food and the bottle of wine, and so John and Irving were finally able to leave aside the family to enjoy the meal and talk about more pleasant topics. John still tried to taste the wine but could not. He did not like alcohol. As soon as they were finished, Irving paid the bill and walked a few yards together to the large parking lot where their cars were parked. They were alone there, or so they thought until they heard voices outside the bars of the parking lot.

They were two women, hiding in a corner. One of them grumbled softly as she held the other woman's hair, which vomited and said something they could not understand. John approached them to offer help, but to his surprise, the woman who muttered under her breath was Clara, the one who a few hours before was taking care of the three Maitland children.


	3. Clara, The Souffle Girl

"Are you ok?" Asked John for the third time, while Clara and Irving lifted her off the ground.

"Yes." Clara replied by her. "She will be fine."

Irving released the woman and went on to analyze Clara. Really, she was as mysterious as John said she was.

"Wait a minute!" She didn't seem surprised. Actually, as far as Irving could deduce, she was curious. "Aren't you the doctor who went to take care of George's children?"

"Yes. And I insist that they need a hospital."

The woman smiled fondly for him and then told him:

"I really that you were really worried about them. You know, just between us, for as much fear as George has, he was very relieved by your visit. He trust you. And so do I"

"And you trust me to help you two go back home? It's very late and very cold here."

"Actually it would be very helpful. I'm on motorcycle and she can barely stand."

"Alright." Irving replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, John. Good night, miss." Said, analyzing Clara one last time before leaving in his own car.

"Come on." Said John. "I'll help you to put her on the car."

With John holding the woman by one of her arms and Clara by the other, the three of them walked, with certain difficulty, to John's car, which was not far from there.

"The blue of your car is beautiful." Said Clara, looking curiously at the vehicle. 

"I know." Replied John, looking very proud. "I call it The Tardis."

"Tardis..?" Clara raised an eyebrow, already inside the Tardis.

"Yes." Replied John as he sat down in the driver's seat, with the other woman sleeping on the back seat. 

"It's very spacious." Clara continued, looking sideways. "You can't imagine it's this spacious when you look outside. Where did you get this car?"

The smile on John's face got larger. It was obvious that he was having a lot of fun with it.

"I stole it."

Clara turned around to face him, and his smile made her realize he wasn't joking. Seeing her reaction, John continued:

"I think you will found out, Clara, that this is the most awesome car ever made. It's special. But tell me, what happened to your friend?"

"I got a call asking me to get her because she had drink too much ."

"That's obvious." John riu. "But drinking this way is too dangerous."

"You never get drunk, doctor?"

"No. I don't like drinks."

"And just for you to know, she's not my friend. She's my step mother, Linda."

"Ah, I understand. Family is complicated. Mine disowned when I ran away from home."

"Why did you run away?"

"That wasn't for me. I needed to discover what life was on my own."

"We all have to. But I think you did well. You save lives."

John smiled fondly at her. 

"You did well too. George and his children would be lost without you."

Clara smiled sadly.

"George is a good man. I will be there for as long as they need. But I'm not just their nanny. I'm an english teacher at Coal Hill."

"That's very kind of you. You're impossible, Clara."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm sure I know you, and even then I've never heard your name before. You're interesting, and as far as I could see, my brother thinks so too."

"So..that man was your brother?"

"Yes."

"I thought he was a doctor too."

John laughed.

"No, no. Braxiatel is a lot of things, but he's not a doctor. I know you said that we've never met before, but I know I've seen you somewhere."

That moment, it was Clara who laughed.

"Believe, doctor. You don't know anything about me. Nobody knows."

"You can start telling me where you live."

"In a flat. Not so far from Coal Hill. You can leave us there, and tomorrow my father will come to get her."

John drove for at least fifteen minutes more until he reached the condominium where she lived. They parked and, with Linda in the arms of John, entered the flat, but not without attracting glances from some neighbors of Clara in the reception and in the elevator.

Carefully, John put Linda on the sofa and covered her with a blanket Clara had brought. 

"Thank you for helping me to bring her, doctor."

"It's ok. Good night, Clara."

"Don't you want to have some tea before? We can eat souffle too."

"You don't have to do this, you must be very tired."

"I take care of three children, I'm used to sleeping late. Besides that, you already had the work to bring us here. Let me return the favor."

John smiled.

"Alright."

Clara's tea was wonderful. It was no wonder the Maitlands loved it so much. Her souffle, however, was a failure. The expression on her face when she sat down after putting the souffle on the table didn't deny how disappointed Clara was. Realizing it, John picked up a fork and began to eat the souffle the way it was. Clara got excited with it.

"Hm! It's really good!" Said John, still with his mouth full.

"It's my mom's recipe."

"Thank her for me."

"She died when I was a teenager."

"I'm sorry." Said John. "I'm sure she was wonderful."

"She was. Have you ever lost anyone, doctor?"

"My wife died a short time ago."

"I'm sorry. I know she was wonderful too."

"It happens. It makes you value what really matters in life"

"True. Tell me, doctor, you said you ran away from home to learn about life on your own. What have you learned so far?"

"There are good things. That, although bad things exist, you don't have to be one of them. Kindness has a bigger value than we imagine."

Clara smiled.

"It looks what my mother always said. She said the person is not the person, the person is the souffle."

John laughed.

"And what does that mean?"

"You are what you do."

"I agree. Your mom was very wise, Clara. Now, take care of Linda and try to get some sleep, or you both will have a headache."

Clara smiled again and while he was leaving, John continued to relive their conversation in his mind. He hadn't had a conversation like this in a while, since River's death. Already inside his beloved car he thought that, mesmo que nunca tivesse encontrado Clara antes, foi muito bom conhecê-la agora.

"Are you ok?" Asked John for the third time, while Clara and Irving lifted her off the ground.

"Yes." Clara replied by her. "She will be fine."

Irving released the woman and went on to analyze Clara. Really, she was as mysterious as John said she was.

"Wait a minute!" She didn't seem surprised. Actually, as far as Irving could deduce, she was curious. "Aren't you the doctor who went to take care of George's children?"

"Yes. And I insist that they need a hospital."

The woman smiled fondly for him and then told him:

"I really that you were really worried about them. You know, just between us, for as much fear as George has, he was very relieved by your visit. He trust you. And so do I"

"And you trust me to help you two go back home? It's very late and very cold here."

"Actually it would be very helpful. I'm on motorcycle and she can barely stand."

"Alright." Irving replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, John. Good night, miss." Said, analyzing Clara one last time before leaving in his own car.

"Come on." Said John. "I'll help you to put her on the car."

With John holding the woman by one of her arms and Clara by the other, the three of them walked, with certain difficulty, to John's car, which was not far from there.

"The blue of your car is beautiful." Said Clara, looking curiously at the vehicle. 

"I know." Replied John, looking very proud. "I call it The Tardis."

"Tardis..?" Clara raised an eyebrow, already inside the Tardis.

"Yes." Replied John as he sat down in the driver's seat, with the other woman sleeping on the back seat. 

"It's very spacious." Clara continued, looking sideways. "You can't imagine it's this spacious when you look outside. Where did you get this car?"

The smile on John's face got larger. It was obvious that he was having a lot of fun with it.

"I stole it."

Clara turned around to face him, and his smile made her realize he wasn't joking. Seeing her reaction, John continued:

"I think you will found out, Clara, that this is the most awesome car ever made. It's special. But tell me, what happened to your friend?"

"I got a call asking me to get her because she had drink too much ."

"That's obvious." John riu. "But drinking this way is too dangerous."

"You never get drunk, doctor?"

"No. I don't like drinks."

"And just for you to know, she's not my friend. She's my step mother, Linda."

"Ah, I understand. Family is complicated. Mine disowned when I ran away from home."

"Why did you run away?"

"That wasn't for me. I needed to discover what life was on my own."

"We all have to. But I think you did well. You save lives."

John smiled fondly at her. 

"You did well too. George and his children would be lost without you."

Clara smiled sadly.

"George is a good man. I will be there for as long as they need. But I'm not just their nanny. I'm an english teacher at Coal Hill."

"That's very kind of you. You're impossible, Clara."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm sure I know you, and even then I've never heard your name before. You're interesting, and as far as I could see, my brother thinks so too."

"So..that man was your brother?"

"Yes."

"I thought he was a doctor too."

John laughed.

"No, no. Braxiatel is a lot of things, but he's not a doctor. I know you said that we've never met before, but I know I've seen you somewhere."

That moment, it was Clara who laughed.

"Believe, doctor. You don't know anything about me. Nobody knows."

"You can start telling me where you live."

"In a flat. Not so far from Coal Hill. You can leave us there, and tomorrow my father will come to get her."

John drove for at least fifteen minutes more until he reached the condominium where she lived. They parked and, with Linda in the arms of John, entered the flat, but not without attracting glances from some neighbors of Clara in the reception and in the elevator.

Carefully, John put Linda on the sofa and covered her with a blanket Clara had brought. 

"Thank you for helping me to bring her, doctor."

"It's ok. Good night, Clara."

"Don't you want to have some tea before? We can eat souffle too."

"You don't have to do this, you must be very tired."

"I take care of three children, I'm used to sleeping late. Besides that, you already had the work to bring us here. Let me return the favor."

John smiled.

"Alright."

Clara's tea was wonderful. It was no wonder the Maitlands loved it so much. Her souffle, however, was a failure. The expression on her face when she sat down after putting the souffle on the table didn't deny how disappointed Clara was. Realizing it, John picked up a fork and began to eat the souffle the way it was. Clara got excited with it.

"Hm! It's really good!" Said John, still with his mouth full.

"It's my mom's recipe."

"Thank her for me."

"She died when I was a teenager."

"I'm sorry." Said John. "I'm sure she was wonderful."

"She was. Have you ever lost anyone, doctor?"

"My wife died a short time ago."

"I'm sorry. I know she was wonderful too."

"It happens. It makes you value what really matters in life"

"True. Tell me, doctor, you said you ran away from home to learn about life on your own. What have you learned so far?"

"There are good things. That, although bad things exist, you don't have to be one of them. Kindness has a bigger value than we imagine."

Clara smiled.

"It looks what my mother always said. She said the person is not the person, the person is the souffle."

John laughed.

"And what does that mean?"

"You are what you do."

"I agree. Your mom was very wise, Clara. Now, take care of Linda and try to get some sleep, or you both will have a headache."

Clara smiled again and while he was leaving, John continued to relive their conversation in his mind. He hadn't had a conversation like this in a while, since River's death. Already inside his beloved car he thought that, mesmo que nunca tivesse encontrado Clara antes, foi muito bom conhecê-la agora.

"Are you ok?" Asked John for the third time, while Clara and Irving lifted her off the ground.

"Yes." Clara replied by her. "She will be fine."

Irving released the woman and went on to analyze Clara. Really, she was as mysterious as John said she was.

"Wait a minute!" She didn't seem surprised. Actually, as far as Irving could deduce, she was curious. "Aren't you the doctor who went to take care of George's children?"

"Yes. And I insist that they need a hospital."

The woman smiled fondly for him and then told him:

"I really that you were really worried about them. You know, just between us, for as much fear as George has, he was very relieved by your visit. He trust you. And so do I"

"And you trust me to help you two go back home? It's very late and very cold here."

"Actually it would be very helpful. I'm on motorcycle and she can barely stand."

"Alright." Irving replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, John. Good night, miss." Said, analyzing Clara one last time before leaving in his own car.

"Come on." Said John. "I'll help you to put her on the car."

With John holding the woman by one of her arms and Clara by the other, the three of them walked, with certain difficulty, to John's car, which was not far from there.

"The blue of your car is beautiful." Said Clara, looking curiously at the vehicle. 

"I know." Replied John, looking very proud. "I call it The Tardis."

"Tardis..?" Clara raised an eyebrow, already inside the Tardis.

"Yes." Replied John as he sat down in the driver's seat, with the other woman sleeping on the back seat. 

"It's very spacious." Clara continued, looking sideways. "You can't imagine it's this spacious when you look outside. Where did you get this car?"

The smile on John's face got larger. It was obvious that he was having a lot of fun with it.

"I stole it."

Clara turned around to face him, and his smile made her realize he wasn't joking. Seeing her reaction, John continued:

"I think you will found out, Clara, that this is the most awesome car ever made. It's special. But tell me, what happened to your friend?"

"I got a call asking me to get her because she had drink too much ."

"That's obvious." John riu. "But drinking this way is too dangerous."

"You never get drunk, doctor?"

"No. I don't like drinks."

"And just for you to know, she's not my friend. She's my step mother, Linda."

"Ah, I understand. Family is complicated. Mine disowned when I ran away from home."

"Why did you run away?"

"That wasn't for me. I needed to discover what life was on my own."

"We all have to. But I think you did well. You save lives."

John smiled fondly at her. 

"You did well too. George and his children would be lost without you."

Clara smiled sadly.

"George is a good man. I will be there for as long as they need. But I'm not just their nanny. I'm an english teacher at Coal Hill."

"That's very kind of you. You're impossible, Clara."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm sure I know you, and even then I've never heard your name before. You're interesting, and as far as I could see, my brother thinks so too."

"So..that man was your brother?"

"Yes."

"I thought he was a doctor too."

John laughed.

"No, no. Braxiatel is a lot of things, but he's not a doctor. I know you said that we've never met before, but I know I've seen you somewhere."

That moment, it was Clara who laughed.

"Believe, doctor. You don't know anything about me. Nobody knows."

"You can start telling me where you live."

"In a flat. Not so far from Coal Hill. You can leave us there, and tomorrow my father will come to get her."

John drove for at least fifteen minutes more until he reached the condominium where she lived. They parked and, with Linda in the arms of John, entered the flat, but not without attracting glances from some neighbors of Clara in the reception and in the elevator.

Carefully, John put Linda on the sofa and covered her with a blanket Clara had brought. 

"Thank you for helping me to bring her, doctor."

"It's ok. Good night, Clara."

"Don't you want to have some tea before? We can eat souffle too."

"You don't have to do this, you must be very tired."

"I take care of three children, I'm used to sleeping late. Besides that, you already had the work to bring us here. Let me return the favor."

John smiled.

"Alright."

Clara's tea was wonderful. It was no wonder the Maitlands loved it so much. Her souffle, however, was a failure. The expression on her face when she sat down after putting the souffle on the table didn't deny how disappointed Clara was. Realizing it, John picked up a fork and began to eat the souffle the way it was. Clara got excited with it.

"Hm! It's really good!" Said John, still with his mouth full.

"It's my mom's recipe."

"Thank her for me."

"She died when I was a teenager."

"I'm sorry." Said John. "I'm sure she was wonderful."

"She was. Have you ever lost anyone, doctor?"

"My wife died a short time ago."

"I'm sorry. I know she was wonderful too."

"It happens. It makes you value what really matters in life"

"True. Tell me, doctor, you said you ran away from home to learn about life on your own. What have you learned so far?"

"There are good things. That, although bad things exist, you don't have to be one of them. Kindness has a bigger value than we imagine."

Clara smiled.

"It looks what my mother always said. She said the person is not the person, the person is the souffle."

John laughed.

"And what does that mean?"

"You are what you do."

"I agree. Your mom was very wise, Clara. Now, take care of Linda and try to get some sleep, or you both will have a headache."

Clara smiled again and while he was leaving, John continued to relive their conversation in his mind. He hadn't had a conversation like this in a while, since River's death. Already inside his beloved car he thought that, mesmo que nunca tivesse encontrado Clara antes, foi muito bom conhecê-la agora.

"Are you ok?" Asked John for the third time, while Clara and Irving lifted her off the ground.

"Yes." Clara replied by her. "She will be fine."

Irving released the woman and went on to analyze Clara. Really, she was as mysterious as John said she was.

"Wait a minute!" She didn't seem surprised. Actually, as far as Irving could deduce, she was curious. "Aren't you the doctor who went to take care of George's children?"

"Yes. And I insist that they need a hospital."

The woman smiled fondly for him and then told him:

"I really that you were really worried about them. You know, just between us, for as much fear as George has, he was very relieved by your visit. He trust you. And so do I"

"And you trust me to help you two go back home? It's very late and very cold here."

"Actually it would be very helpful. I'm on motorcycle and she can barely stand."

"Alright." Irving replied. "I'll see you tomorrow, John. Good night, miss." Said, analyzing Clara one last time before leaving in his own car.

"Come on." Said John. "I'll help you to put her on the car."

With John holding the woman by one of her arms and Clara by the other, the three of them walked, with certain difficulty, to John's car, which was not far from there.

"The blue of your car is beautiful." Said Clara, looking curiously at the vehicle. 

"I know." Replied John, looking very proud. "I call it The Tardis."

"Tardis..?" Clara raised an eyebrow, already inside the Tardis.

"Yes." Replied John as he sat down in the driver's seat, with the other woman sleeping on the back seat. 

"It's very spacious." Clara continued, looking sideways. "You can't imagine it's this spacious when you look outside. Where did you get this car?"

The smile on John's face got larger. It was obvious that he was having a lot of fun with it.

"I stole it."

Clara turned around to face him, and his smile made her realize he wasn't joking. Seeing her reaction, John continued:

"I think you will found out, Clara, that this is the most awesome car ever made. It's special. But tell me, what happened to your friend?"

"I got a call asking me to get her because she had drink too much ."

"That's obvious." John riu. "But drinking this way is too dangerous."

"You never get drunk, doctor?"

"No. I don't like drinks."

"And just for you to know, she's not my friend. She's my step mother, Linda."

"Ah, I understand. Family is complicated. Mine disowned when I ran away from home."

"Why did you run away?"

"That wasn't for me. I needed to discover what life was on my own."

"We all have to. But I think you did well. You save lives."

John smiled fondly at her. 

"You did well too. George and his children would be lost without you."

Clara smiled sadly.

"George is a good man. I will be there for as long as they need. But I'm not just their nanny. I'm an english teacher at Coal Hill."

"That's very kind of you. You're impossible, Clara."

"Why do you think that?"

"Because I'm sure I know you, and even then I've never heard your name before. You're interesting, and as far as I could see, my brother thinks so too."

"So..that man was your brother?"

"Yes."

"I thought he was a doctor too."

John laughed.

"No, no. Braxiatel is a lot of things, but he's not a doctor. I know you said that we've never met before, but I know I've seen you somewhere."

That moment, it was Clara who laughed.

"Believe, doctor. You don't know anything about me. Nobody knows."

"You can start telling me where you live."

"In a flat. Not so far from Coal Hill. You can leave us there, and tomorrow my father will come to get her."

John drove for at least fifteen minutes more until he reached the condominium where she lived. They parked and, with Linda in the arms of John, entered the flat, but not without attracting glances from some neighbors of Clara in the reception and in the elevator.

Carefully, John put Linda on the sofa and covered her with a blanket Clara had brought. 

"Thank you for helping me to bring her, doctor."

"It's ok. Good night, Clara."

"Don't you want to have some tea before? We can eat souffle too."

"You don't have to do this, you must be very tired."

"I take care of three children, I'm used to sleeping late. Besides that, you already had the work to bring us here. Let me return the favor."

John smiled.

"Alright."

Clara's tea was wonderful. It was no wonder the Maitlands loved it so much. Her souffle, however, was a failure. The expression on her face when she sat down after putting the souffle on the table didn't deny how disappointed Clara was. Realizing it, John picked up a fork and began to eat the souffle the way it was. Clara got excited with it.

"Hm! It's really good!" Said John, still with his mouth full.

"It's my mom's recipe."

"Thank her for me."

"She died when I was a teenager."

"I'm sorry." Said John. "I'm sure she was wonderful."

"She was. Have you ever lost anyone, doctor?"

"My wife died a short time ago."

"I'm sorry. I know she was wonderful too."

"It happens. It makes you value what really matters in life"

"True. Tell me, doctor, you said you ran away from home to learn about life on your own. What have you learned so far?"

"There are good things. That, although bad things exist, you don't have to be one of them. Kindness has a bigger value than we imagine."

Clara smiled.

"It looks what my mother always said. She said the person is not the person, the person is the souffle."

John laughed.

"And what does that mean?"

"You are what you do."

"I agree. Your mom was very wise, Clara. Now, take care of Linda and try to get some sleep, or you both will have a headache."

Clara smiled again and while he was leaving, John continued to relive their conversation in his mind. He hadn't had a conversation like this in a while, since River's death. Already inside his beloved car he thought that, even if he had never met Clara before, it was great to know her now.


	4. Warnings

Calmly, still sleepy and with her hands freezing in that morning's cold wind, Clara took out of her pocket her key copy of George's house, which she got when George married Abigail, his late wife and Clara's friend. But in the moment she put the key in the lock, she realized the door was already open, which caused her suspicion, because George would never go to bed without locking the house. Careful and very attentive, Clara went into the house, and as soon as she got in the kitchen, she found Irving Braxiatel, John's brother, standing in front of the balcony with an impeccable posture and analyzing her with his eagle eyes, as if he knew each one of her deepest secrets. Usually, he did.

"Good morning, miss Oswald."

"Irving. What a good surprise. Did you come to breakfast with us?"

"Actually, I just wanted an opportunity to talk without my brother near."

Clara laughed lowly, as she left her handbag in the table.

"And what's wrong with having him near?"

"John has..a certain facility to get attached to people who eventually will break his heart."

Clara laughed. 

"And you're here to make sure that I'm not one of those people? Are you trying to protect your little brother, Braxiatel?"

"Always." Braxiatel remains unshakable. "The problem, miss Oswald, is that I am sure you are one of those people."

"And how could you be so sure?"

"Because I know him, since he was born. And I am sure that we both know you."

"You don't. And I don't know why you two are so obsessed with this idea."

"It's not an obsession. You're not who you lie to be, I'm sure. The question is: who are you, Clara Oswald?"

"Nanny of the Maitlands and a Coal Hill teacher." She replied angrily. Then, approaching Braxiatel, Clara continued: "Good luck trying to prove I am something more."

"Very well then." 

Braxiatel breathed deeply and left the house. Clara, knowing she had won this time, put her plastic bags over the table and concluded, in low voice:

"They will make my life impossible. Why can't they just accept it when I say I'm just a stranger?"

With that, she got out of the kitchen, leaving her coat with the bags, she started walking through the house, gathering toys the baby had left scattered everywhere. Even with Braxiatel away, focused on her work, Clara could feel that it wasn't over yet, but she knew it wasn't worth discussing. Already upstairs, she got into the kid's room and turned on the light to wake them up. They weren't able to go to school, but she still needed to know how they were.

Carefully, she sat beside Artie on the bed and tenderly, passed her finger through the boy's hair and spoke to him, and next, she hugged Angie and kissed her on the face, like she did every morning.

The strong light in the room bothered the baby and made him cry. Clara got up of Angie's bed and went to the crib, putting the child on her arms and slowly swinging him. 

"Clara!" Angie murmured "Do we really have to wake up??"

"I'm sleepy too. I just need to know if you're better today. Besides, I was thinking that maybe we could eat a chocolate cake today. What do you think?"

"Cake!" Artie cheered up. Angie, however, was still a bit distrustful.

"Is your cake like your souffle?"

Clara pretended to be offended.

"I will buy the cake."

The two older children cheered up and, still with their pajamas on, started running towards the door, until Clara stopped them:

"Hey!" She called. "What about my hug?"

Angie and Artie, though irritated, ran to her arms at the same speed they had to ran to the door, almost knocking her and their little brother down. As soon as they got close, Clara bent down and gave each one of the kids little kisses on their faces.

"I love you. Wash your hands first."

"Can we go to the movies today, Clara?"

"It depends..Can the movies be the living room TV?"

Angie nodded, a bit annoyed at her. The favorite part of the week to the Maitland kids was when, on days they had no school, Clara would take them to the movies, leaving George to rest. On the other dayd, they'd try to convince Clara to let them repeat it, what she'de patiently denied. 

Clara returned home a little time after the kids had come to the kitchen. Angie and Artie were sitting in the table, the baby on Artie's arms. Clara brought in her hands a box a delicious chocolate cake, which she placed on the table while she took the plates off the kitchen cabinet. Angie reached out her hand, but Clara warned her:

"Angie, no! Be careful! It's still very hot!"

"But I'm hungry!"

"Wait a second."

Just like she used to do every time Clara denied something to her, Angie was in a bad mood. The girl always had that uncomfortable feeling that Clara wanted to replace her dead mother, as a mother to her and her brothers, and as the woman of that house. The boys, however, liked her, and George had a blind trust on Clara. 

The nanny gave each one the older kids a plate and a fork, and next gave them two pieces of the cake, which they did eat and repeated, when they went to the living room to watch TV. 

Clara put a blanket over Angie's shoulders and said, after giving a kiss on her forehead:

"You don't have to be upset."

Throwing the blanket away, Angie replied:

"You're not my mother!"

"I don't want to be her. I just want to take care of you."

Angie caught the blanket off the floor, and she obviously was going to reply to Clara, she was interrupted by George coming to the room, still wearing his pajamas. Just like happened to Artie, the mood of the girl also got significantly better when she saw her father, who opened his arms to hold his kids. Clara was also happy to see her friend, and waited for the kids to get away to hold him too. 

"Did you slept well, Georgie?"

"Yes, Clara, thank you. How are they?"

"A little bit better. They had breakfast and brushed their teeth, now I need to go to work."

"Thank you." George smiled. "You don't know how much your help mean to me."

"You don't need to thank me. I'll be back in the afternoon."

"Alright."

Clara held George once again and left, with a failed tentative of kissing the kids goodbye. Once outside the house, Clara breathed deeply and took off her own coat a piece of paper, where it was scribbled a phone number and the name "John Smith". She kneaded it, put it again on her pocket, and went away on her motorcycle to the Coal Hill School, not far away from there.


	5. The Call

"Hello?" Answered a calm voice from the other side of line.

"Hello, Clara. It's me, John. How's your stepmother's hangover?"

"Hi, John. It's a bit strong, but she'll survive. And what about you? How are you?" She asked joyfully.

"I'm fine. The weather is getting better, and I thought it would be good if the kids came to the clinic. I wanted to know if the medications are working."

"I think so!" Clara seemed cheerful and John replied with a happiness laugh. "They're more disposed and coughing less. I have a class today, but tomorrow is my day out. I can take them."

"And what about George?"

"Ah, Georgie..he's so tired. He's had so much work lately, but seeing the kids getting better cheer him up so much. Since what happened to Abigail.." Clara paused and sighed. "He gets so desperate thinking he could lose his kids."

John sank into his chair holding the phone firmly. He did not even notice his hand was trembling with anxiety, he just knew that was his chance to get close to Clara and know about her past. 

"Abigail.." he said with some caution. "That's George's wife, isn't her? I've never heard much about her."

"She was." Clara confirmed saddly. "Amazing girl. We went to college together."

"What happened to her, Clara?"

The woman took a long pause, leaving John with only the sound of her heavy breathing and a sudden regret for having touched on such a delicate subject. Lastly, Clara said, tearful:

"Died during childbirth. She was strong, you know?" Now Clara was just holding back the tears. "I was lucky to.."

"Lucky to what?" John arched his eyebrow. He was getting closer. 

"Nothing, nothing. All that matters is that the baby was saved. You saw him, John, isn't him beautiful?"

"Yes, he's a beautiful child." John smiled. "But I never knew his name. What's it?"

"Albert. Albert Cassius Maitland."

"Beautiful name."

"It's a royal name." Clara laughed. Then, affectionate, continued: "The truth is I love those kids. I like to help George."

John smiled. 

"You're so brave, being the strength of your friend's family when you're also grieving." He had the impression that Clara also smiled hearing that.

"I know very well how what it's like to lose a mother. I never wanted them to go through this." 

"They have you and George. You're doing an amazing work."

"And what about your daughter? You've did an amazing work with her as well?"

"I hope so!" John laughed. "Jenny is still a baby, but she's so smart and lovely. Believe in me, she's the most beautiful girl in the world!"

"I do!"

"And she'll never meet her mother.." the sudden memory of River saddened him. "I wish she had someone like you"

"She has you. And her uncle."

John laughed again, but this time sarcastically. 

"Brax..he also has a daughter, you know that? She's his world. And he demonstrates on his own way, of course. Just like Jenny is mine. I love her."

"I understand. It's crazy how they become our world, isn't it?"

"Crazy."

They said goodbye and Clara hung up, and John spent the rest of the day reviewing on his mind everything Clara had said. On the one hand, he was proud of her strength. Just like John, she had lost people she loved and had moved on by sheer determination of protecting a grieving family. He admired that. On the other hand..what did she mean by 'I was lucky'? And that was the question that kept him awake at night. 

The next day, after taking care of a little girl with earache, John welcomed Clara in his office, with the baby in her arms and the two older kids very close to her. 

"Clara!" John gave his bigger smile. "You finally brought them. Well, crianças, how are you feeling?"

"I'm coughing less, but yesterday I had a fever." Artie explained. "Clara won from me in the video game."

"Oh. But just because you were sick."

"No." Clara said. "I'm just much better."

"You're evil.." said Artie. Angie then started talking about how she didn't like to take so many medicines because they have a lousy taste, while John examined them. Putting the baby on the stretcher, John said:

"Would you believe me if I said that I thought a lot about our conversation yesterday, Clara?"

"I would. I thought a lot about it too."

"Did you talk? About what?" Angie asked. 

"Nothing you need to worry about."

Angie made a face at the nanny, and this time continued her questions, but this time to John:

"Are you dating?"

"No, no." John laughed nervously. Clara blushed. The girl looked satisfied. 

"If you date, she'll want to steal your daughter too." Angie accused. "You have a daughter, don't you?"

"I have." John felt the same anxiety of the previous day. "Do you think Clara is trying to steal you three?"

"I do." Angie answered confidently. 

"And why would she do that?"

At this moment, Clara blushed even harder and scolded Angie with her look, as if she was trying to stop her from replying, but that didn't stopped the girl, who looked challenging at her nanny as she said:

"Clara wants to use us to replace her dead baby."

John didn't know if he was surprised or scared. He just walked away a few inches from the stretcher with his mouth open, without having what to say. He looked at Clara, and she was completely moveless, pale like a ghost, as if she had been punched in the stomach, and John was hunted by regret as Clara's silence took over the office. 

He barely could imagine what she was feeling at that moment, or in the last moments. He didn't dare to think what he would feel if he lost Jenny. She was his reason to live. He just murmured 'I'm so sorry', while returning Albert to the nanny's arms. Neither himself knew if he was apologizing or giving his condolences. He was just sorry. 

"We were so happy, me and Abby. Best friends, pregnant at the same time.." Said Clara, looking at the ground with an empty expression. "But we suffered a car accident." She laughed, but it was obvious she wanted to cry. 

 

Clara was right when she said the kids' health was getting better. Even so, John sent the three of them to another room where they would inhale. It would take a while, so Clara went to the waiting room, where she sat in the first chair she found, completely dispersed. She was awake from her thoughts by John, who had brought her a cup of tea. She thanked with a smile while he sat by her side. 

"I'm so sorry for that, Clara. I didn't want Angie to.." he said, but Clara interrupted him:

"Don't think Angie is a bad girl." Her voice was almost a supplication, and John knew that was her mother's heart speaking. "She's just a child, and she's afraid of letting her mother go."

"I understand, but I didn't want you to be hurted." 

Clara closed her eyes tightly, letting a tear roll by her face. 

"It should be the happiest day of our lifes." John had to take the cup out of her hand, because Clara was trembling a lot. "My boyfriend was taking us to the hospital, but he lost the control of the car..when I woke up." Remembering made her cry got worse. "I had lost my boyfriend, my friend, my baby..a tragedy..the children are everything I have now." 

John put his arm around her shoulder, hugging her, and Clara laid her head on his chest. When their eyes met, he recognized in her the pain and the love that only parents can feel. From that moment, his guilt was replaced by a feeling of solidarity and an affection that John strangely felt for her. Pain wasn't the only thing that made them equal, after all. It was love too.


	6. A Second Date

The sun was shining lazily in the sky, and the breeze was nothing more than a caress in the face of those who walked in the park on that warm Sunday afternoon. Children innocently ran and played, while the adults took the time to relax and talk. Among them, were Clara Oswald and John Smith, sitting on the comfortable bench in front of the swings in which Angie and Artie were playing, with Albert and Jenny sleeping calmly in the baby carriages in front of them.

"I'm sorry I took so long to come, Clara. I had a busy day at the clinic."

"Don't do this again." She played, laughing lowly. "Was your day busy because of the flu outbreak of this week? Half of my students are in bed."

"I wish it was!" John lamented. "It was a little problem with Daleks."

"Daleks?" Clara blushed. "There are Daleks here?"

"There were, despicable people, if you want my opinion. They don't feel nothing but hatred. But this has already been resolved." 

Clara looked alarmed. She focused her eye on the ground, nervous.

"Do you think they can come back?"

"No, I don't. Are you alright, Clara? You seem a little nervous."

"I heard the Daleks are a very dangerous gang."

"They really are. But don't you worry. That's not what we're here for."

Clara smiled, glancing at John.

"No. You think I need some time to look after myself."

"We both need it." He confessed, putting his arm around her shoulder. "We spend too much time taking care of others, Clara."

"Except those we want to save." Clara replied, looking sadly at little Albert.

"Are you talking about Abigail or about Danny?"

Clara got distracted for a moment. Then, tearful, she replied:

"I hate having to choose between them."

"I know how it is." He commented, hating to have the experiences that made him understand so well what she was going through. "Do you do it too often? Choose between them?"

Clara fixed her look on the large trees that prowled the park, her countenance empty as if there was a hole in her chest. 

"At that night..they didn't let me see both of them. I had to choose between saying goodbye to Abigail or.." her eyes were wet with tears, and trying to hold back the cry was making it hard to breath. "But she already had Georgie and I couldn't leave Danny alone..I said that I loved him.." 

John hugged her, lying her head on his chest and letting her cry freely. But Clara needed to vent everything she had kept inside her, so she got up and walked away, avoiding looking directly at him. 

"He was so cold.." she said, crossing her arms. "I clung to him..I didn't want him to go away..and then this man came and put him on a drawer as if..as if he was nothing!"

"And what about your child?" John asked, the most delicate way he could. Clara sighed, and despite he couldn't see her face, John knew that deep inside she was falling apart. 

"He died even before he was..I stayed there, paralysed and covered in blood while the doctors tried to make him cry..until they gave up.." she turned to John with her face covered in tears. "He was there, you know, John? My baby. They put him alone on that stretcher, on his father's side.. they didn't shower him or put on the clothes my grandma sewed...they didn't let me hold him...and now he's forever sleeping by his father's side."

John could felt his heart tighten painfully. At least now he understood why it was so important for Clara to take care of those kids. It wasn't just about Abigail. Her trauma was too deep, and that grieved him intensely, because that woman so young, so brilliant, so full of life, so..beautiful, carrying a pain like that, and he hated himself for being able to understand what that pain was. 

"What was his name? Your son?"

"Oliver." Clara smiled tenderly, although there was still sorrow in her eyes. "Oliver Pink."

"What a beautiful name." John reciprocated the smile, getting up and holding Clara. From that moment on, he was no longer just an acquaintance. He was, above all, a friend. 

The hug lasted just a few seconds. A brief moment in which Clara felt free and confident to cry and expose what she felt without fear of being judged, once she knew she had a friend shoulder, who shared her parental love and her grief. But it didn't last for long. At this moment, Clara felt the fabric of her dress being pulled and grasped. Scared, she turned around and saw Angie and Artie, their faces terrified as they cried for her to take them away. 

What happened after this was too quick. More people in the park started screaming and more kids started running to the arms of their parents and nannies. In the middle of the crowd a group of Daleks appeared, with their eternal hateful scream:

"EXTERMINATE!"

They shouted pointing their guns to terrified people who ran asking for help. The Daleks, however, didn't seem interested on them. They walked to the back of the park, where Clara and John were with the four kids. 

When he saw them coming, John touched his pocket, looking for his screwdriver. But Clara, desperate, took the babies on her arms and told Angie and Artie to hold on her; but before she could at least try to run away, the Daleks approached even more, shouting:

"OSWIN! OSWIN! OSWIN!" 

At this moment, Clara got pale like a ghost. Seeing the expression on his face, John felt as if his soul was leaving his body. But the Daleks were close enough to paralyze the kids with fear, and Angie was no longer listening Clara desperately screaming for her to run, so John began to attack the Daleks, having in hand only his screwdriver. 

But John was just one, and he couldn't prevent when one of the Daleks raised his gun and shot. All he heard was Clara's screaming mixing to the loud cry of Albert, whose blood was covering his nanny's clothes.


	7. Truths Discovered

The crowd grew larger as Clara's anguished cries of despair grew louder. A few meters away, Artie and Angie were weeping and shaking, holding each other in search of some protection in the middle of the chaos of the recent attack . And in the center of the agglomeration, John tried in vain to get the baby out of Clara's arms to give him first aid, but Clara, still in shock, was too disturbed to hear him. 

Still feeling his blood boil and with no strength in his hands, John looked up in time to see a young man in the crowd recording Clara's suffering, lying on the floor with a wounded baby in her arms, and felt the anger taking over his body. How could he be so insensitive? Without thinking twice, John got up and violently yanked the cell phone out of the man's hands, ignoring his protests in order to make what was right: call Nardole and asking for an ambulance. 

Nardole, always efficient, sent an ambulance immediately, but the truth was the help could never come fast enough to a woman in panic. The crowd was removed for the paramedics to rescue the baby, taking Clara and the other kids with them too, because John said that they also needed to be medicated.

The surgery room was prepared in advance, and while they sedated that small, defenseless child, who in the moment was wounded and scared, John felt his heart tighten painfully. Only a Dalek, he thought, would have hate enough to be capable of hurting that little being, so innocent. But then, he remembered that everyday, common people hurt children like that, and his eyes teared. 

John did his best to contain the bleeding and to take care of the child's injuries, but Albert still needed of a treatment that John couldn't provide immediately: a blood transfusion. John felt an immediate relief for having brought Clara and the kids with him, because Albert could receive the blood of his siblings. The only thing he needed was George's permission, which he was sure he would get. Then, he left the surgery room, hoping Clara could get in touch with George, but found her in the observation room, pale and shut, sitting on a chair while Artie and Angie huddled in their beds, still shaking like they were in the park. He hesitated to go in and talk about medical details with her, but he didn't blame her. Clara had gone through a traumatic experience. It was to be expected that she was in shock. And, of course, he couldn't not think on those poor kids, who were completely terrified. As a father, his heart ached to see them in that situation, and in having to tell them that their little brother's life depended on them. It was too much for him. John couldn't do that. So, he asked Nardole to call George, and minutes later, a stunned George burst into tears at the clinic, in search of his three kids and his friend.

Still shaking, depressed and worried, George signed the authorization for the blood of his children to be analyzed, and John made a point of collecting it himself, because he thought the kids would feel safer with someone known around, and Nardole took the samples to the laboratory, and they would just have to wait, and the baby would be safe. With that in mind, John focused on comforting George and Clara, so he returned to the observation room, where the two were together.

When he saw him coming, George got up and, desperate, started asking questions about his son's health condition. John tried to explain to him that they needed to do an analysis before the transfusion, but the poor man was falling apart. Holding his head with his hands, George began shouting that it was his fault. In Clara's eyes, John saw that she wanted to say something, but she was powerless. Maybe by trauma, maybe by medicines, but she was weak, and George was destroyed.

"It was my fault, Clara, it was my fault!" He said, holding his friend's hands. "If I hadn't been out today, none of this would've happened! You shouldn't have to stay with them!"

"Hey, Georgie! Georgie!" John stopped him. "It wasn't your fault, ok? I'm a parent too, I know how we feel guilty when they suffer..but the fault is on those awful creatures!" He said, feeling a huge despise when referring to the Daleks and hugging his friend. "You're a great dad, my fri."

At this moment, Nardole appeared on door, saying to the Doutor:

"Sir, I think you need to see this."

"What is it?"

"It's about the attack."

John followed his assistant and friend to the waiting room, where the patients were watching carefully to a television story about the recent Dalek attack. In it, a journalist was commenting a video recorded by one of the witnesses, that showed the moment of the attack, and Clara's reaction after, which made John's stomach wrap again. All those people, and nobody helped them. Nobody did nothing. They would let a child die in his nanny's arms in exchange for views on the internet. But all his repulse was forgotten when the journalist showed the exact moment of the attack again, in which Daleks approached the park. 

Watching that scene again was disturbing for him, mainly for a detail that caught his attention: the Daleks didn't attack anybody else.

At that moment, John tried to tell himself that he was the target. After all, he had faced the Daleks before. But something inside him kept saying that he was wrong. They attacked Clara.

Consumed by this thought, John returned to his office and, closing the door, searched in his computer the same images that the story showed. And there they were, those atrocious beings, walking towards the park and shouting "OSWIN!', whose meaning John didn't know, but that wasn't unknown for him. He heard it years ago, in a fight against the Daleks. Hating himself for what he was about to do, John called Braxiatel. He was surprised to notice concern in his brother's voice, when he asked him if he was all right.

"I'm fine, Brax. But the baby is not."

"What do you mean the baby? You managed to get away from the shots?"

"It was just one, Brax. That's what's bothering me. They shot once and left, and who they hurted was that little boy. But I think that shot was for Clara."

Brax stayed silent for just a few seconds, which increased the anxiety and the tension John was feeling. Finally, Braxiatel asked:

"Why'd they want to attack her?"

"Have you ever heard about Oswin? It was all they said."

"Maybe it's a codename. Daleks use them to protect their real identities. Have the police already spoke to you?"

"No." John replied, exhausted. "I don't even know if the police was called, Brax. But at this point, they must have seen the television story."

"That's strange. Usually they scream 'exterminate' and then attack anyone that's in their way. It's not common for them to scream anything else and attack a baby. Are you sure that you weren't the target?"

"I fought against them, and the Dalek could've shot me, but he shot the baby."

"In this case, you were the obstacle, and not the target..but it doesn't make sense for the target to be a baby, unless.."

"Unless the target was Clara."

John sighed, defeated.

"Tell me, Brax, what do you know about the Daleks' code of honor?"

Braxiatel began to explain everything he knew to his brother, and at this moment Clara opened the door and got into the office. But John didn't hang up, just sat there and stared at Clara. There was something strange in the way he looked at her, which made Clara nervous. 

Later, John thanked his brother and said good-bye, without taking his eyes off Clara. As soon as he hung up, she said:

"I wanted to know how Albert is."

"He'll be well soon. The problem is how he got into this situation."

"I know. It was terrible."

"Yes, terrible. Mainly because it wasn't random, or was it, Oswin?"

Clara grew even paler, as if all life had left her body. John continued:

"I was puzzled with what happened today, because, I had heard that word before. Me and my parents in law were attacked by Daleks and I heard one of them refer to the other as Oswin. Was it your codename, Clara? When you were a Dalek? Is that why I've always found you so familiar??"

John's voice was starting to get more and more aggressive, but Clara didn't back down. John laughed sarcastically.

"I should know! You went pale like that minutes before the attack, when I told you about the Daleks! Tell me, when you volunteered to take care of George's kids, did you mention you were a Dalek?"

"I'm not a Dalek anymore!" Clara shouted. "I left the Daleks a long time ago, when I got pregnant!"

"But they have a code of honor, don't they? If you're not one of them, you're different and you must be killed. Is that why that little baby was hurted?"

"Judge me as you will, John. But I'm the only person in this world who would never hurt Albert."

"Maybe you wouldn't, but your friends Daleks would."

"They're not my friends, I left them years ago! But I know that what I've done has consequences..and I already paid the price, believe me."

"Are you talking about the car crash that killed Danny and Abigail? The car crash that made you lose your child?"

"I was the one who should have died.. That's why I convinced George to move home. I wanted to keep them safe. But I think I failed.." she cried. "Because they found me..and this time it was my Albert who got hurt!"

"And does George knows?"

"Yes, he does.."

John couldn't believe what he'd heard. So George knew about Clara's past? 

He was about to make more questions to her, but at this moment, Nardole entered the room and said:

"Sir, we have a problem."

"Not now, Nardole."

"But it's urgent! The siblings' blood is not compatible with the baby's blood. We can't make the transfusion."

Clara collapsed on the floor, covering her face with her hands and crying.


	8. The Truth About Clara

Everything from the moment Nardole entered that room became a race against time. Defeated, tired and inconsolable, John left his body fall in the chair, crying desperately for thinking that an innocent child would die in his clinic that evening. He was already thinking about how he would give the terrible news to George and his children, when he felt Clara grab firmly his hand. With a fierce determination in her eyes, Clara shouted:

"Take my blood!!"

John didn't know how to respond. Thinking that Albert would die made him forget completely about Clara. 

"Take my blood!!" Clara shouted even louder. 

"We don't have time!"

"Then take my blood!!" She shouted with all her forces. It'd be a huge negligence to make the transfusion without analyzing the blood first, but Clara was beside herself and Albert had no more time, so John turned to Nardole and ordered:

"Collect her blood."

"But, sir!" Nardole protested. "It's not safe!"

"Now!" John shouted, feeling his heart clench. From that moment on, there'd be no turning back for that innocent child, caught in the crossfire of adults' hatred, and the anguish that everyone felt would be replaced by an inexplicably pain or for a deep joy. Only time would tell, and the responsibility would be all his. In all his years as a Doctor, John had never felt an agony like that. 

Nardole helped Clara to get up and took her to the collect, leaving John alone in that cold room. With his chest aching more than never, the Doctor flinched in the chair, crying like he hasn't since River's death. 

Feeling of guilty and despair consumed his mind, and he was having a headache when George came into the room, visibly distressed, but it was the sound of the door knocking, and not his coming, that awakened John from his own thoughts.

"What a fack, John!" He cried. "Why can't I see my son yet?!"

"We still haven't made the transfusion." John answered. 

"What?" The disconsolate look of George broke John's heart. "Why not?"

"He's being prepared to receive Clara's blood."

"What do you mean, Clara's blood? You had the blood of Angie and Artie."

John thought for a moment if it would be wise to tell the truth to George. 

"It wasn't compatible. Alberta's blood type is different."

"How? How can he not have the same blood type of his siblings?"

"It doesn't matter now, Georgie. Rest, please. We all need to rest." Although he was speaking to George, John said it more to himself than to his friend. All his body ached, and he had no force in his hands and legs. His mind was a chaos. 

"Clara is an angel, isn't she? I don't know what I'd do without her." Said George, sitting on the ground.

John silently faced his friend for some seconds, and then repeated, almost automatically:

"Rest, George."

Ah, Clara. Just a few minutes ago, he was ashamed of thinking he was in love with a Dalek, Clara's past seemed so far away, so irrelevant if compared to the life of that beautiful boy. But, certainly, the fact that it was distant didn't mean it had no consequences in the future. And the consequences of Clara intrigued John more and more. 

He was considering, with increasing regret, if he should be totally sincere with George when Nardole entered the room, ready to talk to him, but he restrained himself when he saw George, as if he was choosing his words better. 

"Sir, the transfusion has begun. It's a matter of time now."

"Thank you, Nardole!" He answered, relaxing his body. "We'll just need time to rest, now. Albert is already saved. You heard that, George? Your son is saved." Said him, offering his hand to help his friend to get up. George cried with joy and ran to Albert, who was asleep in a glass crib, receiving the blood of his nanny. 

Relieved but still stressed, John didn't follow his friend. He remained silent, contemplating the situation and trying to understand what should be his next step, knowing very well that, in a few minutes, the police would be there to speak to him and Clara. And that's what made him get up from his chair and leave the room, going straight to the waiting room, where Clara patiently waited for news, firm, with a cup of coffee in her hands, although it was evident that she was exhausted. She was the strongest person John had ever known. 

he watched her for some seconds before talking to her. He was no longer angry when he looked at her. Actually, that blood made him understand and admire Clara so deeply, that he was allowing himself to be in love her again. 

But Clara didn't give time for him to start a conversation. She started it herself when she looked back at him. John walked slowly, as if he was walking in a dangerous territory, and sat by her side. 

"I'm not a Dalek, I'm your friend.." Clara broke the overwhelming silence between them, with tears in her eyes. "I am.."

"You're my Clara. It's everything that matters." He answered, passing his arm across her shoulder to hug her. 

"I want to see Albert.." 

"George is with him."

Clara nodded, and remained silent for a few seconds, reflective. Then, looking at the wall, she said:

"You know, don't you? I know you know. Did you tell him?"

"No..I don't even know if I should."

"Please, son't tell him!" She begged. "That would kill him."

"Don't worry, I won't. There's a limit of what George can take for a day. He just needed to know that Albert was well. Not that his mother saved him."

Clara smiled sadly. 

"You're right. That's what I thought one year ago."

"It must have been the hardest decision you've ever made in your life."

"The most painful one, for sure. But not the hardest." She replied, getting up. "Georgieis my friend. And he had just lost his wife and his son. I, on the other hand, had a son that needed a dad. I just had to swap the babies." 

"YOU WHAT?" Screamed a voice behind her, making Clara and John turn around and scaring the other patients. It was George, disturbed by what he had just heard. 

"George, I.." Clara tried to explain.

"Albert is not mine?" He asked, crying and shaking. 

"Of course he's yours!!" Clara said, holding his friend's hands. "It was you who loved him since the first day, Georgie."

"What, Clara, what have you done??!"

"Abby's baby was born dead..and I was too destroyed to be a good mother..then I realized that I could make us both happy..you are the best father a child could have, George. And my happiness would be that my son had you! And now he has.."

So..that child we buried next to Danny was my son? And you gave yours to me?" He asked, almost whispering, sitting in one of the chairs. John put his hand on his shoulder, trying to confort him. Clara knelt and took his hands again. 

"Yes, yes...I'm sorry.."

George nodded and hugged Clara, stronger than never. Thrilled, Clara hugged back, glad to know that her friend forgave her for what she had done. One year ago, she felt that she didn't deserve that beautiful, innocent little angel, but George did. And he didn't hate her for that. 

They cried for a time. Enough to have a headache, if it wasn't enough the exhaustion of their bodies. But they remained hugged. And not even when the police came, John had the courage to disrupt that moment. Seeing that situation, of love and forgiveness, John admitted to the cops that yes, they were the targets of the Daleks, but because John had, several times, disrupted Dalek attacks. Just like Clara, he lied for love. 

And so, after three days of constant observation, the three little Maitlands were discharged, and George was able to fetch them. But this time Clara didn't follow him. She came into the clinic, so beautiful and radiant that it made John compare her to the Sun, and got into the Tardis, taking with her just her mother's book with all the places that she wanted to visit, so she and John could visit them together. No lies and no secrets - just love.


End file.
